Harold the Klansman

By George Alfred Brown

"Harold the Klansman" by George Alfred Brown. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Good Press
• Release date: Mar 16, 2020
• ISBN: 4064066092528

Book preview

George Alfred Brown

Harold the Klansman

Published by Good Press, 2022

[e-mail]

EAN 4064066092528

Table of Contents

PREFACE

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

Chapter XXI

Chapter XXII

Chapter XXIII

Chapter XXIV

Chapter XXV

Chapter XXVI

Chapter XXVII

Chapter XXVIII

Chapter XXIX

"

PREFACE

Table of Contents

The purpose of the author in writing this story is to furnish the public with reliable information about the Ku Klux Klan, and at the same time give entertainment. It is also hoped that Klansmen who read this story will be given a greater appreciation of the Invisible Empire.

While this is essentially a work of fiction, yet the principles as here elucidated are the true principles of the Ku Klux Klan.

Statistics quoted in this story are accurate and quotations credited to real persons are correct. The story as a whole is fiction but many of the incidents are true.

George Alfred Brown.

Neodesha, Kansas,

August 14, 1923.

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Chapter I

Table of Contents

Ruth Babcock was a heroine. To be sure folk did not think of her as deserving a place in any catalogue where the names of heroic folk are recorded. She was known in the community as a girl with a kindly heart and plenty of grit. She was descended from fighting stock—her mother, who had died when she was twelve years old, was the daughter of an ex-confederate colonel, Clayton Jameson. She had run away from home to marry Fred Babcock, the son of Major Babcock of General Sherman's staff.

The Jamesons were opposed to the match. Their family was one of the oldest and most aristocratic of Virginia. They knew nothing of young Babcock except that he was an intelligent, well mannered young man and the son of a major who had fought against the Southland during the war. Caroline Jameson had a number of suitors, scions of best families, but, contrary to her parents' wishes, she refused to accept any of these and insisted on marrying Fred Babcock. When her parents positively refused to give their consent, she defied them and eloped with him.

They came West and settled in the town of Zala, where young Babcock secured employment in the only bank of the town. When the baby came and Caroline Babcock wrote her parents that they had named their baby girl Ruth, in honor of her mother, the Babcocks received a letter, by return mail, containing a message of forgiveness and blessing and insisting that they come home on a visit and give the grandparents an opportunity to become acquainted with their granddaughter. In this way the estrangement came to an end.

Two years before this story opens, when Ruth was eighteen, an event happened which brought Ruth, who had just graduated from high school, face to face with the stern realities of life. Her father was at this time president of the bank where he had worked for twenty years. Through careful economy he had become the principal stockholder. Ruth had noticed for several weeks that her father was nervous and worried. One night he was called out of bed and had a conference with Dick Watson, his cashier, and Jim Stover, the president of Wilford Springs Central State Bank. The next morning after this conference her father told her that Stover was helping him out of a little difficulty he was having in his banking business. That morning Stover took charge of the Ranchmen's Bank of Zala. The same afternoon her father was hurt in an automobile accident. He was seriously injured, and for a time his life was despaired of. He had partially recovered from the injury, but with his memory destroyed to the extent that he could remember nothing that had transpired before the accident.

When Ruth inquired about the business she was told by Stover that he had bought her father's bank stock for twenty thousand dollars. She found a balance of only twelve hundred dollars to her father's credit. Stover informed her that her father had been in debt to him in the sum of twenty thousand dollars and that he had taken the stock to accommodate him. He showed her the assignment which her father had made.

Most of the twelve hundred dollars was spent for hospital fees and doctor bills. When her father was brought home, unable still to take up active work and with his memory gone, Ruth found herself confronted with the problem of how to earn a living for herself and family.

After consulting with Mr. Stover, she decided to take a stenographic course in a business college. In order to provide the money to do this she sold the home in Zala and moved with her father and aunt (who, since the death of her mother, had been their housekeeper) to Wilford Springs where there was a good business college. As she must husband her resources she felt it would be advisable to rent a residence and live at home; another consideration was her father's condition. She could not bring herself to the point where she was willing to leave him in Zala with her aunt; besides, after disposing of the home, she concluded that the expense of living in Wilford Springs with the family all together would not be as great as if part were to remain at Zala. After a year in business college she felt qualified for a position. It was imperative that she get employment as soon as possible as her finances were getting low again.

She went to her friend and former advisor, Jim Stover, to ask his assistance in securing employment. Much to her surprise he offered her a position in the Wilford Springs Central State Bank. It was with a great deal of figuring—close figuring, too—that she met the bills of her family with the meager salary she received as stenographer.

One evening, after she had been employed in the bank about a year, as she stepped out on the street she met her friend Harold King, a young architect, whom she had met soon after coming to Wilford Springs.

Hello, Ruth.

Hello, Harold.

Which way, Ruth?

I am going down to Smith and Son's Grocery Store to get some groceries, then I intend to catch a Sylvan Avenue car.

If you have no objections I will walk with you to the grocery.

None whatever. I always enjoy good company.

How is your father?

Apparently there is no change in him. He has a good appetite and rests well but gets very nervous at times and his memory doesn't come back to him. If I only had the money I would take him to Dr. Lilly, who is recognized as one of the best mental and nerve specialists in the United States.

It is too bad that so many of us have to be so often hampered for money, he remarked.

I can stand it except when we need it for the services of a doctor. I don't mind having to wear the old dress longer than most girls wear theirs, but when Daddy is in the condition he is and I think there might be some help for him if I just had the money then the lack of it hurts.

Don't worry, he remarked, endeavoring to comfort her, circumstances may soon change.

Circumstances must change. I'll make them change, she said with determination.

Ruth, I wish I could help in some way. Maybe, if someone would suggest to Stover that he raise your salary he would do so.

He might. I have worked there a year. He seems pleased with my work but has raised my salary only once and that raise was but ten dollars. Of course, I wouldn't want to ask any of my friends to make a suggestion of that kind to my employer.

The subject of salary was dropped and Ruth remarked, There was a man in the bank today who said that there is an organizer of the Ku Klux Klan in town and that he wants to organize here.

I hadn't heard that, he replied, but I have been reading considerable about Klan activities.

You haven't read much that was good of them, have you? she asked.

Well, yes; I have read of some charitable deeds of the Klan and also of some other good things that they have done.

The most I have read of them were accounts of where they had whipped someone or given somebody a coat of tar and feathers. Mr. Stover said that it would be a disgrace to the city to have a Klan here. He says that it's an outlaw organization.

Really, Ruth, I don't know enough about it to judge.

Here is Smith and Son's. Goodbye.

When she reached home, not seeing her father, she asked for him.

He just went for a little walk down the street.

How is he?

He has been talking all day about that safe combination, Aunt Clara answered.

I was in hopes he had gotten his mind off of that. He hadn't mentioned it before since I told him they had found the combination and opened the safe. Which way did he go? I will go and meet him.

He started east on this street.

She walked several blocks east but saw nothing of her father, and was about to turn back when she looked down a side street and saw him only a short distance away. She waved her hand to him and he waved his in answer. She was soon by his side. How are you, Daddy? she asked.

Busy, Ruth; very busy. I have been trying to remember the combination to that safe. I almost had it once—I got as far as two turns to the right and then back to the left to forty. I can't remember any more.

What safe is it, Daddy?

My safe; where all our money is locked up. We wouldn't be poor if I could find that safe and get it open.

Where is that safe? Can't you remember at all?

No, honey, that is what I am trying to do. If I could remember the combination it might help me to remember where the safe is.

Daddy, don't you remember that you sold your bank stock to Mr. Stover and that the only safe you had was the bank safe?

No. I can't remember anything about ever having had any bank stock.

Can't you remember at all about being a bank president?

No. I remember that you have asked me about a bank lots of times, but then you know I can't remember anything that happened before I woke up in the hospital and they told me that I had been in an automobile accident; except, that I had a safe with money, lots of money.

Well, don't bother about it now. Look at the beautiful roses in that yard.

They are beautiful. How wonderful it is that God touches the cold dull earth with life and it brings forth such marvelous beauty.

Ruth looked up at him admiringly. He was a tall well proportioned man, a little past middle age. His features were noble, his bearing dignified. In spite of the loss of memory, his speech and acts expressed a refinement which had become second nature to him.

Come, Daddy, she said, taking him by the arm, let's go. Aunt Clara will be waiting dinner for us.

Aunt Clara was on the porch waiting for them when they arrived.

It's about time you were coming, the dinner is getting cold.

We are here 'ready to go,' said Ruth, laughing, and I have a wonderful appetite that is craving some of your chicken salad.

My dear, said Aunt Clara, you are not going to be disappointed tonight. I have the salad prepared.

Fine! Doesn't that sound good, Daddy?

Yes—if I can remember the other numbers.

I was talking about dinner. Aunt Clara has chicken salad for dinner. Isn't that fine?

Yes, chicken salad is all right.

At the dinner table Ruth remarked, I heard in the bank this afternoon that there is an organizer of the Ku Klux Klan in town, and that he intends to organize here.

Mercy on us! exclaimed Aunt Clara, I hope those awful Ku Kluxers won't come to this town. I was just reading today of some of the terrible things they are doing in Texas.

I know it's two turns to the right, then back to the left to forty.

Father, we were talking about the Ku Klux Klan.

What's the Ku Klux Klan? her father asked.

Don't you remember from your study of history of the Ku Klux Klan that came into existence after the Civil War?

No, I have no memory of it. You told me about the Civil War the other day, and as you told me it seemed to me I had heard of it before.

The Ku Klux Klan was an organization that originated at Pulaski, Tennessee, in 1866. Its object was to preserve order. Local authority had been broken down as a result of the war and women were not safe on the streets. Carpet-baggers from the North were controlling the negro vote in the South and actually placing ignorant negroes in office for the purpose of preying on the impoverished South. The Ku Klux Klan was not only for the purpose of preserving order, but to control the political situation as well and keep ignorant negroes from office. It was claimed that while it seemed necessary to establish law and order at that time through an organization outside of the officers, since these were mostly carpet-baggers and negroes during the reconstruction period, there were many cases of abuses, such as whippings for minor offenses and occasionally someone even punished who was not guilty of any offense.

It's dangerous for people to take the law into their own hands, said Aunt Clara.

Yes, but you remember it was thought necessary to have vigilance committees in pioneer days out West. The old Ku Klux Klan claimed that no one was ever punished without a trial.

But wasn't there courts to give trials?

Yes, but the civil courts were at that time presided over by ignorant negroes and by carpet-baggers who were anxious for political reasons to please the negroes. It is quite likely that there were not nearly so many cases of miscarried justice where cases were passed on by the Ku Klux Klan as there would have been if these cases had been passed on by the courts.

But you said a moment ago that it may have been true that some innocent persons were punished.

Of course that is always to be regretted but our courts often make mistakes also.

Is this the same organization that is coming here? her father asked.

Oh, no, the old Ku Klux Klan was disbanded in 1871. Congress passed a law providing suppressive measures, and as the best people of the South, many of whom were members of the Klan, did not wish to oppose a law of Congress, the society was disbanded; however, during the time it existed it had done much to bring order out of chaos. My mother told me that Grandfather Jameson was a member. Today when we were talking about the Klan in the bank, Mr. Stover said that the Klan might have been necessary in the South in reconstruction days, but that the courts and police officers were now amply able to enforce laws and furnish the public with protection. He says that this new Klan is composed of outlaws, that it has all the vices of the old order and none of the virtues.

Judging from what I have been reading in the papers, he is correct, said Aunt Clara, and then added, Ruth, have some more chicken salad?

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Chapter II

Table of Contents

Reverend Rossini was the priest who presided over the Roman Catholic parish in Wilford Springs. He was an Italian by birth and was educated for the priesthood in Italy. He had been in this country only ten years. He did not mix with the general public and apparently took but little interest in public affairs. Protestants often remarked that one thing that could be said for the Reverend Rossini was that he attended strictly to his own business.

The Reverend Rossini was seated in the living room of the priest's home one evening enjoying a cigar, when his housekeeper announced a caller. Father, she said, Patrick McBryan is in the reception room and wishes to see you.

Have Patrick come in.

Patrick McBryan was a local politician. He had held some office for the past fifteen years and was an important factor in every election. At the present time he was one of the city commissioners.

How are you, Patrick? Have a chair.

Glad to see you, Father. Are you well?

Quite well, Patrick.

The priest rang a little bell on the table by his side. A maid came promptly in answer to this summons.

Margaret, bring up a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Yes, Father. She courtesied and left the room. In a short time she returned with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The priest poured a glass of the sparkling beverage and passed it to Patrick. When he had filled his own he held it up and toasted his visitor. May you prosper and be granted many years to serve the Holy Church.

Thank you, Father; the same to you. After Patrick had emptied his glass he smacked his lips and remarked, Splendid stuff! We don't get anything like that at Hennesy's.

It is too bad, said the priest, that a lot of prohibition cranks can pass laws which compel the common people to drink poor liquor; and that where they do not have liberal officers, as we have here, are compelled to buy it clandestinely. It's a shame! The time will come, though, when we will have the votes to repeal this ridiculous prohibitory amendment.

"You are right, Father. It's only a question of time until we will be able to restore the saloons. The expense of trying to enforce the law and the great number of violations will disgust the